


Clear Waters

by Boomgardener



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chicago (City), Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Hawaii, M/M, MerMay, Mermaid/Human Relationships, Mermaids, Merman/Human Relationships, Mermen, Mythology - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boomgardener/pseuds/Boomgardener
Summary: When Alexei helps an older boy who's stark naked and covered in sludge one day, he doesn't think twice about bringing him home to help him. Little does he know, he's brought home a merman.





	1. Kailua

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue for a much larger story, adapted from an AU my good friend @vodoodiedoo on twitter and I came up with and have been working with for years. As a quick note before we start, here are some brief rules that apply in this universe:
> 
> 1) Everything above water is essentially the same as the real world.  
> 2) All large bodies of water (including the oceans, seas, and large lakes) are ruled by lower-level gods called Guardians. Guardians have a council and divide all bodies of water into sections based on the population of merpeople in the area.  
> 3) Merpeople come in many colors and species types, but they all can breathe in and out of the water.  
> 4) If a merperson is dry, their tail splits into human legs. If a merperson gets sufficiently wet, the tail comes back.  
> 5) Merpeople can mate with humans. Whether their offspring grows up in the sea or on land depends on who the mother is, but they can all grow scales if activated in water. This sometimes requires saltwater or freshwater, depending on the species of the merperson parent.

Their father had made the instructions clear when they arrived at the beach: Don’t go into the water past your waist.

The waters of the bay were wild as a pack of dogs that morning, a big north swell a hundred miles to the northeast feeding the churning waves. They crashed against the rocks and into the inlets lined with tiny houses and breakfast restaurants and palm trees, snarling and snapping their teeth.

Hardly anyone had tried to venture out to Kailua Beach that day. There had been a few local surfers riding the waves with dawn’s early light at six o’clock, but even they retreated after an hour, maybe two. There were billowy clouds far in the distance--another symptom of the trouble causing these waves. 

Nonetheless, there were three people who came to the beach at nine o’clock that morning when dawn gave way to clearer skies, eager not to have one of their vacation days wasted just because the weatherman had warned of rip currents today. The father, a tall man with a short mess of dark, tight curls and skin so fair that it was a wonder he didn’t have a worse sunburn, laid out beach towels for all three of them on the pristine, porcelain-white sand. Off went his shoes.

The eldest son, Sasha, toed off his sandals as well and rubbed more sunscreen on his long legs. He was about to enter the fourth grade and had grown three inches since last September, but he was eager to see if he could run to the north end of the beach and back in less than 15 minutes. And so off he went, promising his father he wouldn’t go swimming alone, or at all. The only footprints in the sand were left by the pink soles of his feet.

His father sighed, watching Sasha dash down the beach. He bore more resemblance to his mother than anyone else, with his thick, straight auburn hair and sharp jawline. She lived only in Sasha’s face and in the mixed feelings Vlad got whenever he tried to remember anything about her now. He had hoped taking the boys on a summer vacation six months after she was gone would help. Whether or not that had worked was still unclear.

Alexei, the youngest son still bearing the childlike pudginess found in 8-year-old boys, was a terrible listener. Quiet and thoughtful though he was, with his father’s eyes and dark curls, he couldn’t stay away from the water as it hissed and rolled past his ankles in a rush of white foam. It turned aquamarine in a matter of a few feet. Shells and broken coral were all around him, ripe for the picking and still flecked red and orange. He picked up one, then another. With each step, the water grew higher around his body.

A sand dollar was stuck in the mud beneath his feet. He stooped for it, picking it up before the waves hit his sides and washed over his lower back. Shards of seashells blew past him in the current, but now he could tell when it was about to hit. He could always hear it rumbling a few seconds ahead.

Oahu’s old mountains peeked out over the lapping waves as he walked further into the surf. He didn’t realize how far out he had gone--instead of up to his waist, he was fighting waves up to his chest. Then a wave went right over his head. He gasped. He was off his feet now. All the shells he had picked up were scattered back into the water, lodging themselves back in the sand.

The water picked him up before he could realize what was happening. He panicked, paddling as hard as he could toward the shore. There was nothing to show for it. The current pulled him further away still and took the wind out of his lungs, leaving him breathless and taking in water.

Alexei tried calling out, but was too quickly stifled by the waves. He couldn’t keep his head up. He tried to call out again but couldn’t stay afloat. He rolled, feeling like he was trapped in a barrel. All he could think about was how those swimming lessons weren’t helping him now. His vision started to blur and fade.

Something bumped into him. Not hard like a rock, but firm like flesh. Slippery as it touched his arm. He opened his eyes briefly and saw a dark-colored tailfin and gasped, taking in more water by accident. Surely this was a shark. His eyes squeezed shut. Alexei didn’t wish to see the shark that would sink its teeth into him. He prayed for mercy, hoping that he’d die before he felt those rows and rows of teeth sink into his leg or back or arms.

He felt a pair of hands touch his chest, lifting him to the surface just long enough for him to cough and gasp before he was rushed back into the water. It was moving around him at a breakneck pace. He tried to open his eyes, but the water was too swift. He couldn’t breathe. If this was really it, it wasn’t how he’d imagined dying.

He felt himself emerge from the water and gasped. His eyes blinked open. Though there was saltwater still in them, he swore he had seen a large blur of plum and heard a splash as he tried to move.

Their father would swear for year after year that he only looked down into his beach bag for a few moments. His book had been buried, and it had taken time to find it underneath everything else they had brought that day. When he saw Alexei’s tiny body, spasming with coughs and soaking wet to the roots of his hair, he thought his heart would stop and he would die where he stood. Instead, he ran. He made sure his youngest boy could breathe--and he could. Somehow, by the grace of G-d, he could.

He cried anyway. Just out of relief. It was a secret he and Sasha held close to their chests for years after that. He came so close to losing Alexei that he would keep reliving that moment anyway in the days and weeks after it happened and start crying all over again. To part of him though, it just didn’t make sense. If Alexei had truly been caught in a rip current, how did he end up back on the beach so easily?

Questions about that part of the incident would keep him up at night for years to come.

Though it was more out of precaution than any threat to the boy’s life, their father still called Sasha back from his run and they rushed Alexei to the hospital. The family didn’t spend a single moment more on the beach for the rest of their vacation, and Alexei didn’t dare go near the ocean alone. His father didn’t have to tell him twice.

That day, that fateful June trip, would remain a particularly frightening memory and little more, until that cool October day in Wilmette seven years later.


	2. Wilmette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risking suspension from school, Alexei takes an ailing stranger home with him and his father so he can get food, water and a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter was more of a prologue than anything else. Now is when the story is set into motion! As an aside, most of the chapters will be named after the places where each chapter is set.

Mrs. Ellis’ class of 20 was scattered across Gilson Beach, staring up to the sky with notebooks and erasable pens in hand. Their sneakers sank into the yellow sand as they scribbled notes and asked each other which types of clouds were above their heads.

Alexei Dyakov, 15 years old and carrying a notebook of his own, was just finishing the assignment. He knew cirrus clouds when he saw them, and knew that they tended to bring cold fronts with them, but the rest were a blur to him. He’d already caught the stratocumulus clouds about an hour ago. What was he supposed to do with the last space on his worksheet? Write about the plane contrails coming from O’Hare?

He strolled further away from the concrete beach house, about two hundred yards from Mrs. Ellis as she helped two girls recognize the wispy clouds breezing in over Lake Michigan. Ever the introvert, Alexei stepped past the colorful rows of kayaks, a sign marking them as needing to be claimed by their owners before the lake turned to ice. However, it felt too preemptive to him. Veterans Day hadn’t even come and gone yet. January, with its ice thick enough to trap entire ships in the lake, was far off still.

The dunes signaled his arrival when the tall, dry grass crunched under his foot. Alexei smiled and shut his eyes, listening to the breeze as it brought the waves to the shore and rustled the dune grass around him. Cars rumbled a few blocks away and his classmates yelled to each other. He didn’t mind. He was by no means antisocial. Still, he relished in the sounds of the world around him, being able to fit a few peaceful moments into his day.

It would be a long ride back on the school bus to Skokie, after all. Everyone had a habit of screaming on the way to or from a field trip, and three of his classmates sitting closer to the back had started lobbing pieces of deodorant around on the way to the beach. Nobody had snitched on Ryan Richards for starting it, but it didn’t make Alexei any less annoyed. He could do without Ryan’s cracking guffaw rattling in his ear for an hour before having to endure it with a metallic echo during the afternoon rush on I-94.

He sighed, letting his dark green backpack slide down his shoulders. Only his notebook, his cell phone, a sandwich bag of graham crackers and a tepid water bottle were still inside, but he was glad to take it off. The smell of the grass really hit him as he sat down, flattening the grass in front of him so he could watch a lake freighter slowly slide past, en route north with its thousand-foot load of gravel.

There was a gasp to his left. Alexei reeled his head to search for the source of the raspy noise, not sure what was making it. He scrambled back, trying to get up and away in case this was some sort of murderer laying in wait.

He’d been expecting a snake next to him when he looked at the ground. What he saw instead was shaped like a human shoulder covering a face.

There was sludge caked black and green in his hair, with crumbled pieces of leaves and grass and Lord knew what else encased in it. His skin wasn’t much better off, coated in mud and silt. Alexei wondered inwardly if he had been swimming in the lake.

He was breathing though, and it didn’t seem like he was that close to dying, as filthy as he was.

Alexei reached out and touched the person’s shoulder gently. He was hoping to find some way to wake him up without scaring him or prompting an attack. Perhaps that was the best for now, short of just leaving him there.

“Hello?” Alexei tried, shaking the shoulder with a little more force. “Are you awake?”

The person flinched and jumped back with a small yelp, startled by the unexpected contact. It was then, as Alexei scrambled back on his hands and knees, that he realized something he hadn’t before: Beneath the filth, the older boy was wearing only his skin.

The older teen looked down at the smaller human boy. Although his pulse still pounded in his ears from the sudden scare, he first noticed his eyes. They were wide with fright, but they were so blue, but so warm. Not unlike home. He had never seen eyes like those on another person.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Alexei whispered.

The older boy just stared back at him, bewildered. He was still partly seated, but ready to crawl away if he had to. They both were.

Alexei watched him for a moment longer. Then, he tilted his head slightly to the left. “Are you alright?”

No verbal answer. He couldn’t stop staring at the smaller human. This one was unlike the fishermen he had seen with their nets and boats before. He was beardless. No muscles on his arms, either. Not even the same kinds of clothes. The sun hadn’t scorched his skin like it had with so many of the sailors on the trawlers. In an odd sort of way, he was beautiful. Perhaps it was the older boy’s exhaustion playing tricks on him, but he had a friendly enough face that he felt like he could trust him.

Never before had Alexei been forced to make a snap decision like this, but he knew this dirt-covered boy needed help. He reached for his backpack and unzipped it, reaching his hand inside. The older boy moved his head slightly closer, seemingly not afraid of whatever he was about to pull out. He wasn’t from Chicago, Alexei immediately decided.

“Are you thirsty?” Alexei pulled out his room-temperature bottle of water and twisted off the cap. “It’s kinda warm, but it should help…”

As Alexei reached out, the older boy gingerly accepted the bottle and then poured its contents directly into his mouth. No sipping, no spilling down his chin.

“What’s your name?”

A long, awkward pause fell over them. The older boy stared at Alexei, seemingly wondering why he was expecting a response so soon. Alexei decided to move on and pulled the graham crackers from his backpack.

“My name is Alexei Dyakov,” Alexei said. “Are you hungry?”

The older boy stared at the unfamiliar squares. It looked like a snack, but was it truly safe? He had no way of knowing if he just took a bite.

“Have… you never eaten a graham cracker before?” Alexei divided one of the crackers into two halves.

The older boy shook his head. Alexei offered him one half, and then took a quiet bite out of the other for himself. In turn, the older boy took a bite as well. It was dry as it hit his tongue and slid down his throat, but a little sweet. It also had the honor of being the first thing he had eaten in about two days.

“I feel like you need more help than I can give you by myself,” Alexei said. Instinctively, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his cell phone. “I’m going to have my dad come and take us from here, okay? He’s a doctor, so he knows how to take care of people.”

The older boy just stared at him, still gnawing on the rest of the graham crackers and watching him with curiosity. Alexei didn’t trust Mrs. Ellis to be able to help him here without causing a huge scene. This boy was naked, but he didn’t seem to be on drugs and he didn’t seem to be a pervert. Otherwise, Alexei figured, he’d have half of his face chewed off already.

Hitting the purple button from his speed-dial numbers, Alexei put the phone to his ear. His father should’ve just gotten done with his last patient an hour ago or so; reaching him wouldn’t be that difficult.

The dial tone rang twice.

“Hello, this is Vlad?” answered his father.

“Dad?” Alexei asked.

“Alyosha,” Vlad said warmly. “Should you not be on your field trip right now?”

“I am,” Alexei said. “Dad, there’s a bit of an emergency, but I can’t bring it to Mrs. Ellis or her head will pop off. Can you come and pick me up at Gilson Beach?”

“Which town is it?” Vlad asked, this time in Russian. “Alyosha, what’s wrong?”

“Wilmette. There’s a boy next to me who’s buck naked and I’m not sure he understands a word I’m saying,” Alexei said, replying in Russian. “And he’s so filthy that I didn’t even know he was here at first, and he’s dehydrated. I think he needs help.”

The other line went quiet for a long moment.

“Daddy?”

“I’ll come get you,” Vlad said, his voice uneasy. “Don’t let him touch you. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“I won’t,” Alexei said.

And so they waited. Alexei let the other boy continue to drink his water and kept trying to ask him more questions, slowly. Where are you from? Why are you dirty? What happened? How old are you? Were you attacked? 

No answers at all. After about twelve minutes, Alexei just sat in frustrated silence, arms crossed. Mrs. Ellis still hadn’t even noticed he was gone, but his father pulled up in his silver Prius and quickly stepped out with a long beach towel and an even bigger water bottle. Immediately, he saw what Alexei had meant on the phone. As soon as their eyes met, the older boy tensed.

“Alyosha,” Vlad said, hugging his son before anything else. His voice lowered, warning him, “You realize that you are about to get in a lot of trouble at school.”

“This guy’s in bigger trouble than I’ll ever be,” Alexei countered.

Vlad decided not to argue with his son here. As much as it simultaneously pained him and thrilled him on some level to see his son acting in his first true act of defiance, he knew that was inconsequential compared to making sure this poor stranger didn’t die of dehydration. Not to mention, Vlad wouldn’t be surprised if he was suffering from a terrible sunburn underneath the dirt. There was little time to lose. He made sure the car was unlocked and kept the beach towel handy, if only to protect his guest’s skin from more sun exposure.

“Please, get in the car,” Vlad tried.

“No.”

Alexei looked over at the older boy, surprised to hear him talk. He opened the door. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

In a move that was more asking for trust than anything else, Alexei climbed into the backseat, behind the driver’s seat. There was his favorite spot on every drive up to Door County or down to temple every Saturday, opposite his older brother even after Sasha was finally old enough and tall enough to ride in the front seat. He looked to the dirt-caked boy expectantly.

The older boy looked tentatively back at him. If he were to get into this contraption, would they be leading him to his death? There was only one way to know. He didn’t want to go back to where he was on that beach, slowly fading into the infinitesimal spaces in the sand.

He climbed inside, the soft surface beneath his legs stinging his burned skin for a long few seconds. The boy who had given him water was now gently draping the towel over him. His brain still lingered in a fog, but the food and water were just enough for him to be more aware.

There the boy was. How unusual. His eyes were the pale, clear waters of Kaneohe Bay. Glasslike. How couldn’t he see through them like he could back home on a sunny day? Still, he was clearly a juvenile. Those legs were awkwardly long and slim--there was no way he could swim with them.

There was friendliness in his face that was difficult to ignore. Even as the older boy sat, knees tucked against his chest with the sun beating in through the window, he turned to look at him directly. 

“Do you want me to protect you from burning in the sun?” Alexei asked slowly.

The older boy nodded.

Very carefully, Alexei draped the beach towel around his new friend’s shoulders, legs and belly, all in a bid to protect his sensitive skin without pressing too hard against it. The boy could appreciate his gesture--he got the feeling that Alexei truly was kind.

“I suspect will will need a lot of aloe,” Vlad said, lapsing into his old accent more with apprehension. That was when his phone rang to the tune of a piano ballad. “Hello? This is Doctor Dyakov.”

Alexei looked over to the other boy. The voice ringing out in panic over the speakers was that of Mrs. Ellis.

“Dr. Die-akov, I… I don’t know how to tell you this,” Mrs. Ellis began nervously on the other line.

“Tell me what?”

“Alexei is unaccounted for,” she continued. “He must’ve sneaked away while we were on our class trip. I’m going to call the police to track him down.”

Vlad pursed his lips. The police, already? “Do not do that. Alexei is in back seat. Alyosha, say hello.”

“What?!” Alexei’s face grew hot. His friend stared around the car, confused. “H-hi, Mrs. Ellis.”

“Alexei, you’d better have an explanation as to why you’re not with the rest of us and didn’t tell anybody,” Mrs. Ellis said curtly.

“Is my fault, Mrs. Ellis,” Vlad lied. “We had very urgent family emergency to attend to. I was more focused on getting him home than anything else.”

Mrs. Ellis sighed deeply over the phone. “Alexei, you know you should have told me before taking off with your dad, no matter how urgent it is.”

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Ellis,” Alexei said, feeling genuinely guilty.

“Never mind that,” she said dismissively. “When you come to school on Monday, please come to the principal’s office first thing. For now, please just take care of whatever you need to do.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Vlad said. “Alexei will be in the office Monday at eight o’clock.”

Mrs. Ellis hung up moments later. Vlad let out a deep sigh. “I think you were right, Alyosha. She sounded like she was ready to explode.”

Alexei cracked a smile. “She gets mad if one of us gets up to get a tissue without asking permission sometimes.”

Vlad smiled and went silent as he merged onto the highway and into the rapids of the southbound traffic. Rush hour had not yet set in. Mrs. Ellis’ voice echoed around in his head--had she been speaking Russian, she could’ve sounded just like his wife used to. Just as she had pushed herself out of their lives, however, he tried to push that thought out of his head. Only Alexei, Sasha and Aleph were worth thinking about now. Them and this boy who had been dropped without ceremony into his life, who was drinking whatever water he could find.

Alexei tried a few more times to get the boy to answer his questions. He didn’t succeed. After 10 more minutes of investigating, Vlad suggested he let their new friend rest. After all, he was dehydrated and Vlad questioned if he spoke much English. As disappointed as Alexei was, he figured Vlad was right.

Fifteen minutes down the highway from Gilson Beach, the Dyakov house stood on the north side of Skokie with all the charm and appeal that a two-floor Victorian house with a coat of fresh butter-yellow paint and hydrangea bushes could have. Before Dr. Vladimir Dyakov bought a house fit for two children and any guests that chose to come over, the house had belonged to another Jewish couple who had added on a garage, a sunroom and three maple trees that shed helicopters in the fall. The only reason they’d left was because the graying man’s wife knew her days climbing the stairs were numbered. In came the doctor with a few cans of paint and his samovar, and a promise that he would be able to take care of the house they had signed over to him.

There was a lot of work to be done, but in the end, it was worth it. He could fit three clones of his flat in St. Petersburg into the house, and his sons grew up with their own rooms. Ever the cheese connoisseur, he eventually converted the old scullery attached to the kitchen into a room with a refrigerator dedicated to whatever cheeses he managed to procure while the boys played chef with the extra countertops and cupboard space. Even they came to keep some of their extra snacks in there, with Sasha digging into them after marching band practice every afternoon and Aleph keeping her supply of Gardetto’s in a cabinet with a padlock after he ate them one night.

Vlad pulled the Prius carefully into the garage and killed the ignition, getting out first.

“Here is our home,” he announced to the older boy.

The older boy looked at the door handle inside the car and then at Alexei before opening it and gingerly stepping out. Alexei followed suit, meeting him on the other side.

Vlad slipped out of his black loafers the second he walked through the front door. Then, he turned to their guest. “Do you want to wash off that dirt?”

He nodded.

With the sound of heavy footsteps, a man much shorter and stouter than Vlad or his son came strolling from around the corner. He had a goatee growing on his chin and green eyes, but otherwise wasn’t as well-dressed as Vlad with his buffalo-checked shirt and faded denim pants.

He went straight to Vlad and leaned in to greet him with a kiss, but stopped short when he saw they had a guest covered in dirt and sludge. “Uh…”

“How are you, Moniek?” Vlad greeted, still smiling like he was promising to kiss him later. “I need to direct our guest to the shower.”

“More like three showers,” Moniek answered. He turned to look at their guest. “What size do you wear, friend?”

The dirty boy looked down at himself, then back at Moniek. “Big…?”

For a long moment, Moniek’s green eyes passed over the boy, analyzing something Alexei thought only he could see. If he had formed an opinion, it went unstated. “I’ll find something you can wear. You look to be about Vlad’s size, so it shouldn’t be too difficult,” Moniek said. “My name is Moniek.”

The boy swallowed. “I’m. Ced.”

Finally learning his new friend’s name, Alexei smiled wide beside him. “Ced.”

Moniek offered his hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Ced,” he says. “Leave your troubles at the door.”

Ced took Moniek’s hand for a brief moment, not even shaking it. Vlad, in turn, motioned for Ced to follow him up the stairs. “Let me show you how the shower works.”

Moniek stared at Ced for a long moment as he climbed to the second floor. He didn’t dare let what he was thinking pass his lips.

“Moniek?” Alexei asked.

His expression softened and he turned to his stepson. “Yes, Lexi?” 

“I’m probably about to get suspended for ditching my field trip to help Ced,” he says. “Can you help me get ahead of my French homework?”

Moniek chuckled. “ _ Bien sûr.  _ Get started, and I’ll check it once you’re finished.”

\------

Meanwhile, Vlad led Ced up into the bathroom and set two dark blue towels on the counter next to the sink. They were just the right shade to match the blue tiles on the shower walls, but the floor, with its black and white honeycomb pattern, clashed against it. That was a project Vlad had been saving for after the kids went to college.

“Here is the shower,” Vlad said, rolling up his dark red sleeves. “There is baby shampoo here, so that should help you break up the sludge in your hair once you are in the shower.”

Ced watched him set aside the giant bottle of baby shampoo.

“Here is the way you turn it on,” Vlad explained softly. “The further to the left you bring the knob, the warmer it becomes. I will keep it cold for today, so your skin will not hurt.”

He turned the faucet on, quickly switching over to the shower. Ced had seen things like this a few times before, mainly at the beach. People used it to wash away sand. As Vlad stepped away to see if he had any exfoliating soap in the bathroom cupboard, Ced leaned his head underneath the cold water.

It all happened in an instant. The water splashed onto his head and washed away the silt on his skin, but the sludge was so thick that some of the droplets rolled down his neck, back and hips and shoulders. With them, the plum-colored scales began to ripple out of his skin, covering patches of his cheeks in rapid succession as if the water had begged them to stop hiding. A faintly tinted pair of plum fins sprouted along his arms, as did a dorsal fin that manifested from a ridge in his back. With the water below his hips, his scales grew less and less patchy until they formed a long, smooth fishtail that shone violet under the bathroom lights. Without any knees to support him, Ced ended up on the floor, holding himself up on the edge of the tub.

Vlad only heard the thud of him landing on the floor and looked up. However, his own legs grew weak at the sight in front of him and he collapsed to the floor with everything he’d dropped, staring at the merman by his bathtub.


End file.
